The muggle raised
by Melancholy's Sunshine
Summary: Hermione and Harry were raised by muggles, what if Ron was too? All while still having a magical Weasley family? AU. OOC Ron in some parts.
1. Chapter 1

**Nobody loves me,**

**Nobody cares,**

**Nobody picks me peaches and** **pears**

**Nobody offers me candy and Cokes**

Harry sat in a rickety boat with a giant of a man as they floated ashore with the power of his little pink umbrella.

"Can all umbrellas do that? The wizard kind I mean?"

"Nah 'arry. This umbrella a bit different. Not all can do this," the large man said. Harry nodded as if he truly understood. It was hard to believe all of this was real. Magic, something which the Dursleys even told Dudley didn't exist was real, was happening all around him. He was magic. He was a wizard.

**Nobody listens and laughs at my jokes**

**Nobody helps when I get in a fight**

**Nobody does all my homework at night**

"Hermione? Are you sure you want to go to Hogwarts?" a woman asked her daughter. A girl with unmanageably frizzy hair and rather large front teeth smiled at her.

"Yes mum. Imagine all there is to learn! All the books they have! And I'll be with people just like me," she said with a touch of melancholy. She was no stranger to being an outcast. She was the bookworm and ugly girl in her class. She was the girl that strange things happened around. Nobody wanted her. Everyone picked on her for one reason or another.

**Nobody misses me,**

**Nobody cries,**

**Nobody thinks I'm a wonderful guy.**

"Magic? I don't think so," a red haired boy tossed the letter into the fireplace. He knew magic was real. He knew it was a real pain. All magic had done was get him hopped from orphanage to orphanage, country to country. It was just a problem. It cost so many friends, so many chances at a family. His eyes drifted to the letter. He lit a match and paused. Did he really want to do this?

Sure magic never brought anything good but maybe... Maybe he'd finally get some answers. Perhaps magic was in his blood. He blew the match out letting the smoke billow into the air. He reread the letter addressed to a "Ronald Weasley". Other than the name all the information matched up, even to his room. He had just been Ron for as long as he could remember. No one knew his mum or dad. It was quite frightening actually seeing a letter like this.

He knew that if there were any answers, the magical world had them. Or the government... But he wasn't going to attempt to open that can of worms. He touched the wax seal delicately. Cool and different from normal sealed envelopes in the states. He slowly opened the letter.

'_Dear Mister Weasley, _

_We are pleased to inform you, that you have been accepted at Hogwarts school for witchcraft and wizardy..._

**So if you ask me who's my best friend, in a whiz,**

**I'll stand up and tell you that Nobody is.**

Individually or in groups, children boarded the train at platform 9 3/4. Children kissing their parents goodbye, mothers fretting over first years or yelling at rule breakers, fathers giving quick hugs and a sense of direction. Younger siblings cried as their elders boarded the train. Elders waved giving last minute advise to their juniors. All in all, it was mass chaos. Just the way Fred and George liked it.

Chaos, where one could get lost with no sense of rhyme or reason. A great place to play pranks.

"So Gred, what say you we go visit some ickle firsties?"

"Capital idea Forge. We should warn them about the troll wrestling!"

The twins grinned at one another quickly boarding the train where many of the first years sat. They looked at the hall where little first years huddled together some scared, others confident.

"Ready to go?" Fred asked.

"Yes!"

"Oh! So you're ready to wrestle the troll?"

"The what?" a little girl asked, her eyes wide with fear.

"Oh yeah! That's how they decide what house your in-"

"First you wrestle the troll-"

"And the show you put on decides the house your in!"

The first years paled as they ran into a compartment. Fred and George laughed.

"Excuse me?" they heard a young voice say down the hall, "May I sit here? I think everywhere else is full."

The twins grinned mischievously at one another, stealthily dirtying down the hall. They opened the door to see a shock of red hair strikingly similar to their own, and a mess of black hair with a scar on the forehead. The boys were wearing large hand me down clothes that Fred and George could probably fit into. The dark haired boy wore a pair of round glasses with something on the bridge to keep it together. But the scar caught their attention.

"Blimey! Are you?"

"He is! Aren't you?"

"What?" the dark haired boy asked slightly fearful.

"Harry Potter!" the twins chorused. The dark haired boy blinked while the red head furrowed his brow.

"Oh him. I mean, yes, I am."

The twins gawked for a moment before looking at their fellow red head.

"And who are you?"

"Never seen you before."

"And wow what hair!"

"What? It's red. So is yours," the boy grumbled. The twins grinned.

"Yes. But we have Prewett red-"

"Mum's side of the family-"

"The richest of copper color-"

"And yours is rust!"

The first year looked away.

"Ah come on!"

"We'll tell you ours if you tell us yours," George bribed.

Green eyes met the twins from both boys.

"...on..."

"What was that?"

"Couldn't hear you!" Fred sang.

"Ron. Just Ron."

"What? Ya can't just be Ron!"

"Well I am."

"Huh. What do you think of that Gred?"

"I think we have a problem Forge."

"Well, there's no way around it."

"You're going to have to go back."

The red head's face flushed with anger.

"Why's that? I was the one who got a letter for a school I never heard about and they'd send me back without a last name. Bloody hell I don't believe it."

**But yesterday night I got quite a scare,**

Fred and George had eventually left Harry and Ron in their compartment. The two boys met Neville, the toadless boy and Hermione the knowledgable. Neither boy really knew what to make of her, though she did seem to know a lot about their school. Overall the two seemed pleasant. At least more so than Malfoy. He told Harry they should be "friends". He had even called Ron a Weasley to which Ron responded that he had no connection with them. He was then called a mud blood. Malfoy and his goons were less than pleasant.

Leaving the train they stepped into boats, all of which were floating towards a magnificent castle. Hermione talked about the history of the castle as if she had lived there her entire life. Leaving the boats, the children herded together trying to protect themselves. Even entering the children remained close. A stern looking woman explained that there were for houses in the school that competed against one another.

She then left them alone, entering the room that would either become sanctuary or hell. It didn't help when ghosts floated over their heads, some striking conversation.

** I woke up and Nobody just wasn't there**

The first years walked in herded by their curiosity. Ron and Harry could hear Hermione talking about how the ceiling looked like a night sky. It was the only part of the room where there was no people. Each corner replaced with an unknown face. Each nook and cranny filled with potential friends.

**I called out and reached for Nobody's hand,**

Everyone bumped into one another unable to have their own space. The people in the tables calling out to brothers and sisters waiting for their sorting.

**In the darkness where Nobody usually stands.**

Barely noticed, where the teachers sat, an old worn hat lay on a chair. The only place where nobody was. But even the hat was a somebody as it sang a song of the houses, proclaiming cunning, knowledge, loyalty and bravery.

"When I call your name, please step forward," the stern teacher stated, "Abbott, Hannah!"

She was declared a Hufflepuff. More students went up as their names were called. When Granger, Hermione was called both Ron and Harry saw the girl who visited them eagerly place the hat on her head.

"A bar of chocolate she's in Ravenclaw?"

"Probably," Harry whispered back. To their surprise it called out Gryfindor. Neville was the same way except belief he would be in Hufflepuff. Soon Harry was called leaving Ron alone. He sat for a long time before the hat proclaimed Gryfindor. The table of red and yellow roared their approval. Over the cheering, the twins on the train were singing "We've got Potter."

The numbers dwindled down until only a few people were left. Turpin, Lisa was called and named a Ravenclaw.

"Weasley, Ronald," the stern teacher called out. Her face contorted in confusion. Ron looked over at the other boy curiously. He mouthed 'Aren't you going up?'

So he wasn't Ronald Weasley. So the letter was for him. He walked up at a steady pace. He sat in the chair and placed the hat over his eyes.

"Another Weasley? Curious. None of the other Weasley's mentioned you."

Ron froze hearing the voice in his head.

**Then I poked through the house, in each cranny and nook,**

Percy jumped when Fred and George as they sat on either side of him.

"Perc-"

"Why did they call that firstie a Weasley?"

"I don't know," Percy stated looking up at the first year. Few people noted that he wasn't supposed to be a Weasley. Most assumed he was another brother of Bill and Charlie. Some would know, like the Gryffindors. Fred and George always commented how they couldn't wait until they weren't the youngest Weasleys in school when Ginny arrived.

**But I found someone in each place that I looked.**

**I searched till I'm tired, and now with the dawn,**

**There's no doubt about it-**

"Plenty of courage to come here. You also were exceedingly cunning. Never did you tell anyone where you were going..."

"I just want to know why I have my gift. I want to know and this is the only way."

"Countless other ways... But you better be... Gryffindor!"

Ron removed the hat as he received a standard clap from the houses quickly joining Harry at the table.

**Nobody's gone**

Ron barely noted Blaise being called up and declared a Slytherin. He didn't pay attention to the announcement in favor of listening to his stomach roar. When the speech was over, food filled the tables making his eyes widen. He grabbed a bit of everything with gusto.

**Poem by Silverstien. This is a weird story I know. But if you are curious than let me know. Updates will be sporadic.**


	2. Chapter 2

Ron stayed close to Harry. Or, closer to him than anyone else. Harry didn't seem to mind. In fact, he seemed relieved to have someone he knew near him. Must not be from a wizard family then. A set of kindred spirits. Behind them was Neville the toadless-boy-who-found-his-toad and frizzy hair Hermione the knowledgable, helping him keep an eye on him.

Weaving through the halls with the rest of the first year classmates, he glanced at the moving paintings. He averted his eyes as a few seemed to notice his rust colored hair. Their eyes darted further ahead in the crowd to the copper hair colored twins.

"So, I hear that first years room together in groups of four," Ron began. Harry raised his brow with curiosity and a spark of hope, "Want to be roommates?"

"Sure. Good to know someone we're rooming with."

**Glass doors, wooden windows, soft steel, metal pillows.**

"How are we going to get Perce's owl. He's not going to let is use him. And there's no way he's going to tell mum."

"Dunno. Maybe we can get Lee's tarantula and set it loose. Drive the girls mad and as "prefect", he'll have to restore order."

"Alright. Still got the map?"

"Of course Forge."

The twins weaved through the crowd toward their friend Lee in hopes of annoying Percy and getting Hermes.

**Broken emotion, solid heart, invisible ocean, light in the dark.**

Percy led the students passed Peeve's rather quick to annoy. He told him he'd call the Baron making him leave after dropping sticks on the Longbottom heir's head. It didn't look serious so he marched on wit. The students following. He prattled on about warnings the first years needed to know. Moving stairs and the like. His mind was elsewhere about the strange first year boy with the same last name.

Ron. It was an odd name to his tongue. He had an imaginary friend named Ron. His mom had been pregnant just before hand and told him and his brothers that another brother was on the way. After the twins, he wasn't too thrilled. But Bill reminded him that he was a younger brother as well so the baby may be nothing like the twins.

They gathered Fred and George's old baby items they had only just recently out grown And began shuttling them to the attic. The baby's to be room. He remembered all the hand me down toys that were handed from Bill, to Charlie, to himself and then the twins. Most of the toys and clothes were stained and faded. And times were tough with the war. Money was stretched thinner than it was now.

He remembered convincing Charlie to take his money he earned around the house and coins that he found to buy something for his new little brother. He wanted to be his hadn't disappointed when he had returned one year with a small brown teddy bear from Hogsmeade. He hid it in his closet to surprise the baby. His parents talked about naming him Ronald. So he began writing Ronnie a letter. He wrote down everything he would do for him. Teach him to read, keep him out of trouble and even speak.

Then Molly left for Saint Mungos. She returned with red eyes and no baby.

**Desert rivers, frozen time, empty spaces, completely fine.**

Harry and Ron were surprised as Percy the prefect gave a password to a painting of a rather large woman. She moved off the wall, swinging on a hinge allowing students in. Older students kept together with their friends with a few venturing out to welcome the first years.

The room was alive with red and gold, a living embodiment of what it would be like to live in a flame. It was breathtaking.

**Life of dreams, sleeping awake, clean messes, dirty lakes.**

**Friendly fires, sharp realities, crying liars, argue agrees.**

"C'mon Lee!"

"Why do you want my tarantula? Normally you're more creative than letting a pet loose."

"We just need-"

"-A distraction. We need-"

"Percy's owl. And no way he's going to say yes."

Lee groaned.

"You better get him good next time," Lee stated as he opened his tarantula's box. The arachnid crawled out of the box and made it's way to the common room. Fred and George smiled enthusiastically as they darted toward the owners taking as many hidden passages as necessary.

**Weird normalcies, bragging modesty. This makes a great deal of NON-sense to me.**

Student of all ages kept staring at Harry. It was kind of creepy actually. Was it his scar that garnered attention? Granted, the scar was pretty neat. But it was just a feature from some accident right? Many of the students who had said they had no wizarding parents didn't seem to care. But those with one or two magical parents looked at him like he held the Holy Grail. A few of the older students sent Ron a look.

He just sent one back. So far he had seen three other boys with hair similar to his so _clearly_ it wasn't that uncommon.

Hermione seemed to be taking everything in stride, talking about books and classes to the point people were ignoring her. Huh. Maybe that's all you needed to get people to ignore you.

Hermione had taken to mostly talking to Neville, a rather timid Gryff, who held onto every word she said to do well in classes.

In all this, no one noticed a large spider crawling up the wall behind the youngest red head in Gryffindor. Not one soul saw it creep up to his shoulder. But everyone heard the girlish shriek in terror as it jumped on his shoulder.

"Get it off! Get it off!" he howled. Many older Gryffindors laughed at the spectacle. Younger Gryffs, stood back away from the freaking ginger. Percy was in his element as he walked forward and plucked the tarantula off the boy's shoulder. It seemed as though his face had become three shades or so paler. He shuddered, quickly moving away from Percy.

"I hate spiders," he whimpered, "Why couldn't it have been a butterfly?"

**Wow. Review count stunned me. I mean, I didn't know people would want to read this but thank you. I hope I do justice and I hope you all review.**

**Poem is Non-Sense by Felisha Coon**


	3. Chapter 3

**So fragile life and human conscious **

**Mindful wander, erratic, of untold purpose**

**Bringing shadowy foreboding**

**To the depths of our spirit; a dangerous curse**

The twins rushed in the poorly lit owlery and searched for Percy's beaut of a bird. A letter tucked in Fred's pocket with messy scrawl addressing to the Burrow. The ink still drying. The owls screeched and hooted garnering undesired attention from the twins. Where was Percy's owl?

"Missers Wealsey's," a cold, bitter voice penetrated the air. The twins turned around with a lazy smile facing the potion's professor.

"Professor!"

"What are you doing up in the owlery at this time?"

"Don't you have firsties to watch and class tomorrow?"

Snape glared at the boys with unbridled disdain.

"You are out of bed past curfew. Detention. One week."

"Aw, professor-"

"We just need to send our mom this letter is all," said Fred pulling the letter out of his pocket.

Snape stalked over to the boys, his robe billowing magnificently. The twins couldn't help but wonder if it was a charm or curse that made his robes billow like that. He plucked the letter from Fred and opened it. His eyes boring at the paper.

"Pretty sure that's illegal," George whispered to Fred. Fred nodded agreeing with his twin. Snape scowled, his obsidian eyes bore into the twins.

"You think this is funny?"

He pushed the paper in their hands. It was all one black smear.

"Guess we should have waited a bit longer for it to dry."

**Tradgedy is looming, catch your breath,**

**Two tonnes of weight upon the chest,**

**Pascal afflicts my senses, my head,**

**Silence scares, gravity flares: there can be no rest.**

Percy blew lightly on the parchment under the candle light in his room. It was a prefect's job to be the first to rose and the last to sleep. They were the aurors of their dormitory and house. They enforced the law at all cost and expense. Namely, their own.

Tonight it worked in his favor. As students stayed up whispering wonders of the upcoming year believing him to be asleep, he wrote, rewrote, edited, and rewrote again a letter to Charlie.

He could write to his mum and dad, but that would get a howler or his parents visiting the school. He really didn't want that.

He could also write to Bill. But Bill had important work in Gringotts. He couldn't be bothered by this hunch. Even if he had access to more difficult identification spells.

That left Charlie. Dragon obsessed, quidditch playing, Romanian bound Weasley. He would be the only one old enough to remember mum clearly at the right time frame without other influence. He was careful in his wording. Not direct until Charlie either confirmed or denied the possibility that they would have another younger brother.

Hermes screeched at Percy drawing him from his thoughts. He stroked the chest feathers of the unfamiliar owl as he attempted to fold the paper with one hand into the envelope. If anyone was watching, they were doing a rather good job at not laughing at Percy the Prefect. Being the perfectionist he was, the paper had to be folded in perfect thirds. Rather tricky one handed, the paper just slightly off on an angle. Hardly noticeable but just enough so to have Percy attempt to refold that line. This went on for about ten minutes, his face nearly matching his hair in shade with his irritation noted.

He sighed once the letter was folded well enough to stuff in the envelope. He placed a wax seal over the opening and attempted to tie it to Hermes. Hermes was miffed at someone tying something to his body. He began screeching and flapping his wings hitting Percy numerous times. It was only after an additional half hour that he was able to secure the letter and send Hermes on his way.

He hoped Charlie would be able to put his thoughts to rest. Perhaps Weasley was just another muggle name that eerily matched a wizarding one.

**The toll hangs nigh, have you danced well?**

**Prior skepticism awash with certainty,**

**Pray thee lord, forgive me, I hear the bell.**

**Through my life I've been good, with mere lack of piety.**

Ron dropped his trunk at the foot of his bed. The room was shaped as an octagon, giving each of the five boys their own wall. Yes, five. There had not been an even number of new students. He and Harry and agreed to share a room. So had Dean Thomas and Seamus Finnigan. That left a lone Neville Longbottom left looking for a room. Harry had been rather quick to invite him. Ron was indifferent. Better a person you knew than a stranger.

"Scream like a little girl Weasley?" Dean smirked. Ron rolled his eyes.

"Ron. Just Ron. And I don't like spiders."

"Why's that?"

Ron didn't say anything. His thoughts ensnared by an orphanage so far unforgotten. He was young. Five at the time. He had seen one boy pick on another for having ripped pants. Ron had told the matron, as he had been taught to do. She had punished the unnamed faceless boy by making him hem all the clothes And stitch the holes shut. He loathed the work but no one could deny his uncanny stitch work, unnoticeable to most.

He had scooped up clothes when he had his spark of inspiration for revenge. He grabbed the one toy that belonged to Ron, a small brown teddy bear. He had a simple idea. He gathered a few spiders and slipped them into the fluff of Ron's bear. They would be sewn inside and one or two would get out, startling him. Nothing big.

He had the bear, as well as the mended clothes put away and no one suspected anything. Ron had moved to another orphanage a week later. Too crowded they had said. Months had passed and he had forgotten about the older boy. He looked out of a stormy window in Ireland, yet another place he couldn't call home, when everything turned sour.

He held his bear close to his chest, sadness emanating from him like gentle waves. Another family came, another family left. And nothing had changed. He gave his teddy bear a squeeze. Abruptly, hundreds of baby spiders crawled out of the seams of the bear. They scurried over Ron's body as he shrieked in horror. His bear no longer visible, buried under a multitude of spiders. His skin prickled with every spider movement on his skin and clothes.

He had been black labeled since then. The children avoided him like the plague, telling new tales of how he laughed instead of cried, how he made little girls eat them, how he was their master, and how he summoned them to do his bidding.

"Ron?"

Ron jumped a little, drawn out of the memory.

"Are you alright?" Harry asked. Ron nodded.

"I just don't like spiders."

**Alas, a break, judgement saved**

**Fever unmasked, the evil plot twists**

**From deepest despair, a way is paved**

**Take control once more with clenched fists.**

Ginny Weasley lay in her bed in a dreary silence. She hated when her brothers were gone. It was too quiet. It was fine the first year. But every year since was dreary and cold and quiet. She slipped out of her bed, assured her mum and dad were asleep before climbing up the stairs. She slid into her private room. The attic. No one went up there. It was full of dusty old baby items from Bill, Charlie, Percy and Fred and George.

She liked to come up here and be alone with her thoughts. That and Mr. Fizzles. He was a bear, never had been played with. A scarlet ribbon around his neck. It wasn't stained or faded, it just was dusty. Well, dusty with a hint of baby powder. He always helped her when things were too quiet. Even if she had to pull a few spiders off him.

**This fight is over, prepare but not await the next**

**Be strong, be happy, have faith, son**

**Do not fear thought, health, nor text**

**Then body, mind and soul may realign as one.**

"Arthur," Molly said softly. Tears pooled in her eyes. Arthur wiped away her tears and kissed her cheek, "He'd be going this year."

"He would. He would complain about Fred and George playing pranks."

"He would've been so happy."

Both Weasley's cried in complete sadness imagining the boy their sixth son would've been.

**A dose of feels with a side of 'What-is-wrong-with-the-author.' Poem is unnamed and does not mention an author. Found it online. Please review.**


	4. Chapter 4

**Oh! my name is JOHN WELLINGTON WELLS -  
I'm a dealer in magic and spells,  
In blessings and curses,  
And ever-filled purses,  
In prophecies, witches, and knells!  
If you want a proud foe to "make tracks" -  
If you'd melt a rich uncle in wax -  
You've but to look in  
On our resident Djinn,  
Number seventy, Simmery Axe.**

Hogwarts was very much like stepping into a muggle fairy tale. An enchanted castle, far off places, no electronic luxury, and a separation between the characters living in the world and the ever learning protagonist. Because that's what it was wasn't it? Everyone had to learn something, some just played larger roles in other people's stories is all. So far Harry had remained close to Ron, both fairly ignorant of the magic world beyond what they learned in fairy tales. And the stories were grossly exaggerated. Charms was simple enough to understand. It was the story book magic all muggle children had heard about. It was what they expected. Even if the teacher wasn't.

Transfiguration was another given, though decidedly a harder branch of magic, few picked up on the technique quickly. Hermione was one of them to Ron and Harry's amusement. Perhaps her grandmother or something or other was a witch. Or perhaps she was just like the Gryffindor head and transfiguration professor.

Herbology was a bore, though Neville seemed to excel in the dull class.

Defense against the dark arts (or DADA, he had heard older students call it) was a sham. The class was poorly lot and the teacher kept stuttering. Though if the curse of the teaching position were true, he'd be nervous too. That didn't impress anyone however. More were focused on the room itself. A strange smell of rot seemed to linger in the room.

Today was potions with Slytherins.

"Do you think what the older students said was true about Professor Snape?" Harry muttered.

"Doubt it. Seems like bad blood between Lions and Snakes though," Ron admitted, "And I've heard he's head of Slytherin. But most students talk bad about strict teachers so who knows."

**We've a first-class assortment of magic;  
And for raising a posthumous shade  
With effects that are comic or tragic,  
There's no cheaper house in the trade.  
Love-philtre - we've quantities of it;  
And for knowledge if any one burns,  
We keep an extremely small prophet, a prophet  
Who brings us unbounded returns:**

It didn't take long for Fred and George to begin plotting. It was simple enough. They were going to turn Ron Weasley into a real Weasley. They'd worry about mum and dad later once they got their hands on Hermes who had gone missing the first night. And there was no convincing the twins to just _ask_ Percy for the bloody bird. They'd manage.

"You got the brooms?"

"You got the fire crackers?"

They both nodded with devilish grins. Time to show Hogwarts the masters of disaster were back in action. It wasn't easy. But if it were easy it wouldn't be any fun. The trick was just to hold out long enough for the trick to play through. If all went well, you didn't get caught. If things went south, at least you had a good laugh.

This moment's prank of fascination was simple, good old fashioned chaos. Release a bunch of fire crackers simultaneously in the hall to surprise everyone. A good introduction to magic if they do say so themselves. Fred scrunched his eyes shut as they finished setting the crackers.

"Fred? You okay?"

"Yeah. Just a headache. Feels like a troll smashing things in my head. Like in a bathroom or something."

"Troll in the bathroom?" George dead panned. Fred sheepishly smiled at his brother.

"What can I say? My brain is just so fantastical for bringing that to mind."

George shrugged his shoulders. One of the only things he didn't share with his brother were the headaches. Always made him say weird things. Oddly enough, something similar seemed to happen within a six month span of him mentioning it. Though normally, they were great ideas for pranks.

**For he can prophesy**  
**With a wink OF his eye,**  
**Peep with security**  
**Into futurity,**  
**Sum up your history,**  
**Clear up a mystery,**  
**Humour proclivity**  
**For a nativity.**  
**With mirrors so magical,**  
**Tetrapods tragical,**  
**Bogies spectacular,**  
**Answers oracular,**  
**Facts astronomical,**  
**Solemn or comical,**  
**And, if you want it, he**  
**Makes a reduction on taking a quantity!**

Snape was strict, blunt, and just plain mean. Not two minutes into the class he drilled Harry on various ingredients and potions. It was all gibberish to Ron. Though Hermione seemed excited and rather eager to answer, Ron was sure Neville could have answered the one about Wolfsbane, he seemed to understand a lot about Herbology.

He was paired with Harry. It didn't take long for Gryffindor to lose points. Ron could now see why students complained about Professor Snape. He was a git.

**Oh!**  
**If any one anything lacks,**  
**He'll find it all ready in stacks,**  
**If he'll only look in**  
**On the resident Djinn,**  
**Number seventy, Simmery Axe!**

Percy read the letter carefully. So he wasn't mistaken. He could have a brother. Charlie wrote he would pay his alma mater a visit to see Ron for himself. Either that or just visit Hagrid. Charlie was surprisingly easy to distract, so long as it involved a creature. Regardless, he'd get the truth out of Charlie. He'd find out what happened.

He stretched from the table in the dorm, sliding the letter into one of his older books. He walked towards the dining hall when he tripped over a piece of sting. In seconds, there was a loud pop followed by a roar of squeaks. White mice and party hats lay everywhere in a heap mixed with candy and chess sets. His face quickly became the same shade of red as his hair.

"FRED! GEORGE!" Percy roared getting onto his feet. Two identical red heads peered from behind a corner.

"Aw Perc!"

"You ruined it!"

"Now we have to-"

"-start all over!"

"No. You will not. Twenty points from Gryffindor each," he grumbled trying to nurse away a headache named Fred and George.

**He can raise you hosts,  
Of ghosts,  
And that without reflectors;  
And creepy things  
With wings,  
And gaunt and grisly spectres!  
He can fill you crowds  
Of shrouds,  
And horrify you vastly;  
He can rack your brains  
With chains,  
And gibberings grim and ghastly.**

"I'm sorry about the short notice," a tall red haired male said packing two trunks.

"Don't worry Charlie. It's all covered. Just keep us in the loop. Curious if this Weasley is anything like you."

Charlie smiled at his boss.

"Maybe. But first I need to find out if he _is _a Weasley."

"The way you were skipping suggests so."

Different members of the dragon sanctuary snickered at the image of their scar riddled dragon raiser skipping merrily down the halls. Many of them went to the infirmary believing they were delirious. Only hours later did they learn of Charlie's letter from Percy. A few had tried to read it. None had succeeded.

Despite that, everyone knew what the letter contained. A possibility of another Weasley. Those who were close to Charlie knew he was supposed to have another younger brother. They knew his mum was there during a Death Eater raid. A few were killed including two nurses and a red haired baby. In the arms of one nurse was the dead red, while the other nurse held a squirming red haired baby.

The nurse carrying the dead baby was Molly's nurse. The one carrying the live baby was the nurse of a mother who died in child birth with a father killed prior in the war. Both muggle born. The only reason Charlie knew that was because he had asked nurses questions when his little brother never came home. Only a batty old nurse told him anything. And she was about to be forced to retire in a week.

Still, chances like this were one in a million. He wasn't going to let this slip through his fingers. Besides, it'd be good to see Hagrid again. Last he saw him he had a baby Cerberus named Fluffy. Should be all grown by now.

**Then, if you plan it, he**  
**Changes organity**  
**With an urbanity,**  
**Full of Satanity,**  
**Vexes humanity**  
**With an inanity**  
**Fatal to vanity -**  
**Driving your foes to the verge of insanity.**  
**Barring tautology,**  
**In demonology,**  
**'Lectro biology,**  
**Mystic nosology,**  
**Spirit philology,**  
**High class astrology,**  
**Such is his knowledge, he**  
**Isn't the man to require an apology**

"Hagrid, this is Ron," Harry introduced, "Ron, Hagrid."

"Ah, not another Weasley," Hagrid stated. Ron opened his mouth to interject but Hagrid kept speaking, "Spent half me life keepin yer brothers from the Forest I have."

"I don't have any brothers," Ron stated. Hagrid looked like a great injustice had been done. Eerily similar to when he discovered Harry knew nothing about the wizarding world.

"Don't have any brothers. Codswallop!" Hagrid began ranting, "You're as sure a Weasley as I've ever seen. You look like a little Charlie With Bill's ears. Say, you wouldn't happen to be interested in dragons would yah?"

Harry and Ron's eyes widened comically. Dragons?

"I doubt it's legal to own them," Ron squeaked. Hagrid snorted.

"Yup. You're Charlie's brother," he stated walking over to his large dog lovingly named Fang. Harry and Ron gave each other a look. Was this a wizard ing thing or a Hagrid thing?

"So," Harry began, "Is it normal for hats, mice and candy to be lying around in the halls?"

"And chess sets!" Ron said quickly, his ears burning hot. Many thought it nerdy he enjoyed chess but he couldn't help but take a set from the many piles of mismatched goods.

Hagrid snorted.

"Sounds like the Weasley twins are at it again. Love playing tricks they do. Guessing wizard crackers."

"Like party crackers?" Harry asked curiously. Hagrid gave a blank look not quite understanding.

"Don't care much for muggle contraptions. Might want to ask Pr'fessor Burbage. Knows lots about muggles, that witch."

"Oh."

**Oh!**  
**My name is JOHN WELLINGTON WELLS,**  
**I'm a dealer in magic and spells,**  
**In blessings and curses,**  
**And ever-filled purses -**  
**In prophecies, witches, and knells.**  
**If any one anything lacks,**  
**He'll find it all ready in stacks,**  
**If he'll only look in**  
**On the resident Djinn,**  
**Number seventy, Simmery Axe!**

**_The sorcerer's song by WS Gilbert was this chapter's poem. I enjoy it a lot. A bit of nonsense is also good for the soul. I hope you all enjoyed this installment of The Muggle Raised. Please Review. _**


	5. Chapter 5

Fred and George looked at one another bored out of their minds. Their prank to introduce magic to firstie muggle borns was ruined by their own brother. Now how were they going to indoctrinate little lion Ron into the Weasley clan? He already had their name and hair!

"Now as introduction to muggle studies," Professor Burbage began, "We will cover basic muggle tools, devices, means of transportation and documents during your first year. We will get the boring knowledge out of the way first. Now many muggle have documents that are similar to wizarding contracts..."

* * *

"So this is elective period?" Hermione asked with fascination. Percy gave a terse smile.

"Not quite. Once you reach your third year you may take electives, and there are certain times when the classes are available. Many overlap so this is considered an elective period."

"Fascinating," Hermione gasped. Percy resisted the urge to roll his eyes. Charlie was on his way, and bless his brother, he was a bit too much like dad. Few things held his attention and they held it too well.

He hoped that Charlie wouldn't arrive until he could get away from Miss Granger. Perhaps he could convince her to befriend other lions. Perhaps even Ron. It didnt look like he was branching out to others, he was staying fairly close to Harry Potter, and the few times he wasn't, Neville was with him.

He thanked his lucky stars Fred and George hadn't tried to corrupt the younger Gryff. That would be difficult to deal with.

* * *

Ron lazily lifted a pawn from the board, placing it diagonal from the king.

"Checkmate Harry."

Other first years, magic born or otherwise watched in fascination of the chess skills of the ginger first year.

"You're really good," Harry smiled. Ron shrugged his shoulders.

"It's a good game to pass the time. Want to try again?" Ron asked reseting the board.

"Sure."

"Why don't you play with the wizard chess set?" Neville asked, looking at the set he swiped from a rather strange prank. Ron crinkled his nose.

"They complain too much. Always watching out for themselves rather than the entire board, even though they all get fixed at the end of the game. Maybe if they were older and understood the game more."

Neville shrugged his shoulders. He only played with Wizard chess pieces. And only his Grandmum's set. He didn't know if there was a difference or not. But her's were rather snippy.

"Besides," Ron added, "There is something so satisfactory about picking up a piece and capturing another," he said taking a knight and knocking over another knight as an example. The knight fell with a clank making Ron grin. Though Harry wasn't a good player, he did have an interest. That was good enough for Ron. No one really enjoyed the fine challenge of chess anywhere he went. An old person's game they said. He wondered briefly if he had any chess players in his birth line. Not that it mattered. It was unlikely he'd ever meet someone he was related to.

* * *

Charlie smiled as he walked into Dumbledore's office. Ah the memories. As Dumbledore was not there, he focused on Fawkes, an aging Phoenix with orange and gold plumage.

"Hey there Fawkes. Do you know where Dumbledore is?"

"I am here Mister Weasley," an old voice said. Charlie jumped, his eyes wide and his damaged wand at the ready. He sighed when he saw it was Dumbledore.

"Sorry sir. But you really shouldn't do that. You know I work with dragons and any noise means a shield at the ready," he smiled sheepishly putting his wand away. Dumbledore smiled back at him, his eyes twinkling with hidden knowledge.

"My apologizes. Mr. Weasley. I find it quite useful to walk in quietly to observe a situation before running in."

"As do I Professor. Though I am not here to talk about that."

" I would think not. You are here to discuss the first year Weasley."

Charlie's ears turned slightly red.

"Yes sir. You know, St Mungo's found mother's nurse with a dead red haired babe."

Dumbledore nodded, acknowledging what happened.

"And that baby was assumed to be Ron."

"Yes."

"But the quill that writes the letters is never wrong."

"As to this day, no one has proved otherwise."

"What kind of quill is it?"

"Pardon?"

"What creature did the feather come from. It must've been a fantastic creature," Charlie began rambling, "To be so accurate even with a spell placed on it. I mean so many feathered creatures have finicky feathers when it comes to magic. To find one that is so accurate is truly a marvel-!"

"Mister Weasley?"

"-and the spell must have taken so long to study! Oh, I hope they didn't pluck too many feathers from the creature. That can be extremely dangerous for them-"

"Mister Weasley?"

-and then there are the knolls. Misunderstood little creatures-"

"Mister Weasley," Dumbledore said a little louder.

"-and don't get me started on the gay centaur rights law-!"

" Mister Weasley!"

Charlie looked over at Dumbledore as if realizing he was there.

"Right. So what is the feather?" he asked.

"Hippogriff. Now about why you are here-"

"Well that doesn't make any sense. Hippogriff's feathers are shoddy at best for writing with."

"Mister Weasley. The first year Weasley?"

"Ah yes... What does he look like?"

" He is tall for his age, pale skin, freckled, and red hair-"

It was that moment they heard footfall coming up the stairwell. Both turned to the entrance of Dumbledore's office to see a red haired first year with a Gryffindor coat of arms as his mark of house. He swallowed keeping his eyes on Dumbledore.

"Professor Dumbledore?" he squeaked. Charlie raised a brow. The boy looked like Percy, but with Fred and George's baby fat and facial expression variety.

"Ah yes my boy. Ron Weasley. What do I owe you being here?" Dumbledore asked. Charlie's eyes widened comically. This was Ron?

Well he certainly looked the part to say the least.

"Got in a fight," he admitted, his face turning the Weasley shade of red.

"Why was that my boy?"

"Someone destroyed my chess set. Called it nothing but mudblood trash. So I punched him in the gut. Professor Snape saw it and gave me detention. Told me to come see you."

Charlie's eyes narrowed. Before he could stop himself he spoke, "Can you describe who did this?"

Ron jumped at the new voice. His eyes landed on a man who looked like an odd combination of the Weasley twins and Percy the Prefect. He however was also marred with scars on his arms and some light burn marks on his face. His clothes smelled of faded smoke. His eyes were shaped however, like his own**.**

**That's all for now. Sorry no poem. If you like the poems then send me ideas. If you like just the story then don't. When I find poems that work I will use them. But that's just how I roll. Let me know what you thought of Charlie in this chapter and everyone else. It feels strange writing the Weasley's.**

**As always, please review.**


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